


If You Could Say It In Words (There Would Be No Season To Paint)

by FairyTrashMother



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cum Eating, M/M, Makeup, No Lesbians Die, Oral Sex, The rituals are fucking intricate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyTrashMother/pseuds/FairyTrashMother
Summary: It starts, as many of Lambert’s most life changing moments do, which is to say with Lambert saying something really fucking stupid, and Aiden delighting in holding him to it and taking it way farther than he’d intended.orAiden is the first person to put Lambert in a dress and Lambert learns some things about both of them.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 58





	If You Could Say It In Words (There Would Be No Season To Paint)

**Author's Note:**

> I was chatting with [@g-a-y-b-a-c-o-n](http://g-a-y-b-a-c-o-n.tumblr.com) on tumblr about how Nils Verberne in [that one photoshoot](https://sugar-makeup.tumblr.com/post/643290987374002176/paradoxspaceheater-sosuperawesome-nils-verberne) has spawned so many Aiden headcanons and then it devolved from there because it makes _sense_ that Aiden and the other Cats, as sometimes assassins would need to know about makeup and disguise, and then it spiraled out into "Aiden put Lambert in a dress for the first time and it Awakened Something in him" and then tender blowjobs happened because I can't help myself.
> 
> Title is a quote by Edward Hopper

It starts, as many of Lambert’s most life changing moments do, which is to say with Lambert saying something really fucking stupid, and Aiden delighting in holding him to it and taking it way farther than he’d intended. 

They had been friends for years, meeting and parting and meeting again, like the tides, but they’d recently added a new component, where Aiden flirted and fluttered his lashes at Lambert, and Lambert stared too long at his lips and then said stupid things to break the tension, and then they moved on. But it kept happening. Aiden kept creeping close, kept up with the lingering touches, and Lambert kept doing his best not to swallow his tongue or cry with how much he wanted-well something. He wasn’t going to put shape to it, but he wanted something. 

They’d been friends long enough that casual intimacies weren’t unusual. Stealing sips from the other’s mug, bending to tie the other’s boot laces, rummaging through each other’s packs to steal-well,  _ borrow _ things, it was all par for the course. So when Lambert smelled Aiden in the common room of some backwater town and heard from the innkeeper that he’d taken a room, it was a given that Lambert would bully the room number from the man, pick the lock, and make himself at home in Aiden’s room while he waited for Aiden to get in. There were no posted contracts, which meant that either he was running normal errands, or working a job that Lambert was absolutely not going to ask about, and either way Lambert was going to take a long nap in a bed for the first time in a while and then bother Aiden later. And if there was only one bed, and they’d have to press close to fit together overnight, well. They’d been friends for ages, and if Geralt’s bard found it an acceptable activity for friends, then it was surely well within the bounds of normal things friends do, right?

The sun was just beginning to set when Lambert heard a key slide into the door lock. He stretched with a smug smile, ready for some good banter, when a woman walked through the door. 

_ Shit _ . 

_ Shit shit fuck shit, oh dicks, oh no _ . This was bad, this was so bad, this was such a good way to get himself killed and he understood, but what a fucking stupid way to go.

He scrambled off the bed, snatching for his boots. “Shit  _ fuck _ , ma’am I’m so sorry, I thought this was someone else’s room, I’m  _ so _ sorry, let me make this up to you, let me-”

He was cut off by laughter. The woman (a tall, willowy, frankly stunning blonde woman in a plain brown dress that hugged her in all the right ways) shut the door and slid down it wheezing with laughter. Laughter that Lambert could pick out across a crowded city street. 

“What the  _ fuck _ you fucking prick? I thought I was going to  _ die. _ ” He lobbed his boots at Aiden (alright, he chucked them underhand at the door to accent his point).

Now that he wasn’t contemplating launching himself out a window, Lambert took a good look at Aiden, who was still slumped on the floor lost to his giggles. He had the same feeling as when he looked at those silly pictures that were a duck one way and a rabbit another. This was Aiden, clear as day, but also, had he not known that, there was a beautiful woman slumped on the floor having a laughing fit. Trying to hold both images together made his brain itch in a way that was odd but not unpleasant. 

He’d blame the brain itching until his dying days for what he said next. “Of course you’re pretty as a woman too. You look like one of those paintings rich people buy to whack it to about the nobility and beauty of provincial life.” The problem was that first, it was true, and second, it didn’t come out scathing like he’d intended. Instead, it made Aiden sit up and give him one of those grins that made his whole body throb with the knowledge that the cat was hunting something for fun, and the something was him. He tried not to examine those feelings too closely. 

“You think I look hot in a dress?” Aiden rose gracefully to his feet, somehow managing to avoid stepping on his skirt. 

“I didn’t say hot, I said  _ pretty _ .” He was losing ground. How the fuck was he losing ground? “Anyway  _ why _ are you in a dress? And is that face paint?” 

Aiden nodded and moved to sit on the bed so he could start unlacing his boots and stripping down. “The face paint is fairly integral to the illusion that my face is softer than it is. And as to why, its because nobody suspects a ‘provincial beauty’ of spying and assassination.” He glanced hurriedly at Lambert’s face. “It was spying, today. Had to steal some documents for someone else. Anyway, it's something we all learn at the caravan. Sometimes you just need to look like someone else, and a little face paint and the right clothing can go a long way.”

His boots hit the floor with a thud and then he twisted in an alarming way to get at the ties to his skirt. Without thinking (and that’s where the catch was, wasn’t it, with Lambert not  _ thinking _ ) Lambert moved to help him with the ties, batting his hands away. The other problem was that he never knew how to leave well enough alone. “Sure, but it helps that you’re all pretty. Good luck getting a wolf in women’s clothing and making them actually look anything other than stupid.”

Aiden huffed. “Bullshit, I bet you anything that I can dress you up so well you’d fool old Vesemir. I bet I could dress you up so well you’d fool  _ yourself _ if you saw your reflection. I bet you  _ a hundred orens _ .”

So of course, he went ahead and said something really fucking stupid. “Ok, deal.”

\--

Which is how he found himself where he was now, staring at himself in a mirror in Aiden’s stocking and dress, which Aiden was lacing up behind him. Aiden had insisted he shave before getting dressed, and as much as Lambert hated his near terminal case of baby face, he had to admit that that alone drastically changed how he looked. Aiden finished lacing and smoothed his hands over the dress- _ over Lambert’s sides- _ gripping Lambert’s hips. Their eyes met in the mirror, Aiden standing half a head taller than him. Aiden grinned. “Stunning, as I knew you would be. Now, go sit by the window, I need good light for the next bit.”

Aiden had re-dressed in the soft pants he used for training and  _ no shirt _ like some kind of  _ animal _ . He had then spent a considerable amount of time grinding and mixing  _ things _ and then smearing them on Lambert’s wrist, frowning intensely, and then re-mixing them. Lambert could identify everything that went into them, but he honestly had no idea what any of the finished products were, or what was about to happen next. He sat, gingerly and waited for Aiden to come sit across from him, their knees touching. 

“Right, now, I’m going to be giving you a lot of instructions and I need you to listen if I tell you to open or close your eyes or mouth, but you actually have to  _ listen _ because I don’t want to take your eye out during this next bit. I have gotten some of this stuff in my eye and it is  _ not _ a good time.”

“Follow orders on pain of blinding. Got it.”

“Good. Now, close your eyes.”

The next half hour passed as an age and the blink of an eye. Aiden’s face was  _ so close _ , and his lips kept parting as he concentrated on painting Lambert’s face. It was utterly quiet apart from the soft but firm commands Aiden kept issuing as he dragged the deliciously soft brushes across Lambert’s face. At first Aiden had tilted Lambert’s chin with just a nudge here or there with his fingertips, but eventually he just kept ahold of Lambert’s jaw, his fingertips gentle but firm as he tipped Lambert’s face first this way, then that. It was easier to just let him have control, Lambert would tell himself later. Aiden knew what he was doing, it was easier to just let him lead. All he had to do was close his eyes and feel what Aiden was doing. Aiden wouldn’t hurt him. 

None of it hurt. The sun was pleasantly warm on his face, the brushes cool and so soft. Aiden cradled his face like he was precious and touched him so gently, his breath ghosting like a whisper across Lambert’s skin. Occasionally, Aiden would follow the path of his brush with a fingertip, smoothing something Lambert couldn’t see, and the contrast felt  _ good _ . The cool, soft brush and the calloused, warm fingers. He could feel the heat of Aiden’s body as he shifted closer, straddling Lambert’s legs, murmuring something about lines. 

When the brushes danced over his eyelids he felt almost drunk. He’d never been kissed on his eyelids like he’d read about in some of the sappier romances he’d found in the library at Kaer Morhen, but he thought for a giddy moment that this must be what it felt like to be held close like something delicate and cherished. Like something that  _ Aiden _ cherished. 

When Aiden brushed something berry sweet across his lips Lambert felt his heart stutter. He  _ had _ kissed people on the lips and it had never, never been so soft. When Aiden swiped a thumb across Lambert’s lips Lambert felt his pulse in his cock and realized that he was impossibly hard. He had a vague thought that he should say something, make an excuse to Aiden for it, but it didn’t feel that urgent. Aiden would tell him if there was a problem. He had a second, slightly more urgent thought about what his cock might look like, hard under his skirt, and he felt his skin break out in gooseflesh at the idea. He  _ really  _ liked the idea.  _ Would Aiden like the idea? _

Finally Aiden stilled. Lambert could hear the soft click of a brush being placed back on the table, but nothing else. Aiden leaned back, fingers still gripping his chin, tilting his face for inspection. He wanted so badly to open his eyes, to see what Aiden thought, but Aiden hadn’t said, and the idea of displeasing him simply didn’t exist. It wouldn’t be possible. Aiden would tell him to open his eyes when he needed his eyes opened. 

“Stunning,” Aiden whispered into the silence between them, his voice soft but  _ rough _ like Lambert had never heard before, and Lambert shuddered at the praise. “Open your eyes for me.”

Lambert opened his eyes slowly and was instantly captivated by what he saw. Aiden sat across his lap, face inches away. From here he could see the powders and paints on Aiden’s face, the soft gold accents on his eyelids that made his green eyes glow all the brighter, the pink paint on his slightly parted lips. But what stole his breath was the  _ look _ on Aiden’s face, as though he were memorizing Lambert’s face, as though it was the most important thing in the world and it would be snatched away soon and he’d have only the memory of it. The tip of his tongue peeked out to swipe at his lower lip. 

It wasn’t a thought so much as a bone deep instinct that rose from his bones like the tolling of a temple bell. Lambert grabbed Aiden’s hips and surged forward with a desperate whine to kiss Aiden. He wanted to taste. He wanted to crawl inside this feeling and plant a flag, he wanted Aiden to feel how Lambert felt when Aiden looked at him like that, he wanted Aiden’s pink lip tint on his skin, he wanted to leave his own kiss marks on Aiden’s skin, to mark and claim. He wanted- no,  _ needed _ to touch. He needed Aiden.

Aiden groaned and tangled his fingers in Lambert’s hair, taking control of the kiss, and rocking his hips to grind his cock against Lambert’s belly. The kiss was frantinc and Lambert was sure he could cum just like that, with Aiden squirming in his lap, but Aiden firmed his grip in Lambert’s hair and tugged him back. 

“Lamb.” Lambert blinked at him and struggled to get himself under control. This was important. He wanted so badly to keep kissing Aiden, to feel those gentle fingers all over his body, but this was important. “Lamb, I- I want-”

“Yeah.”

“I want to suck you off and then cum on your face. Is that-”

Lambert’s breath caught in his throat. “ _ Yeah _ .”

“Thank the gods,” Aiden breathed as he threw himself to his knees. For all his haste, he still took the time to carefully peel the layers of skirt up and fold them neatly in Lambert’s lap, like he was unwrapping a present. When Lambert’s cock finally sprung free Aiden groaned and looked up at Lambert. “Gods above, Lamb, you’re so fucking  _ stunning _ .” And then, hands on Lambert’s thighs, holding them wide as gentle and as firm as he’d held Lambert’s face, Aiden ducked forward and  _ swallowed _ Lambert’s cock. 

Lambert wasn’t sure what sound he made, but he thought it might have been something between a hysterical laugh and a sob. He wasn’t convinced he had a soul, but if he had one, Aiden would find it and suck it out through his cock, he was sure. Aiden’s tongue fluttered and his throat squeezed and Lambert wanted to last, he did, but when he looked down at Aiden on his knees ( _ for him _ ) with those strong ( _ so fucking gentle _ ) hands on his thighs, fingers digging into the fine wool of his stockings, and Lambert found his thighs shaking already. 

Aiden groaned around him, squeezed Lambert’s thigh and looked up to meet Lambert’s eyes. Aiden’s lipstick was ruined, one hand working frantically at himself, and his slitted green eyes glittered up at him with utter adoration through lashes made teary from his exertion. Lambert’s orgasm hit like he’d been blindsided by a rampaging chort. He barely managed to swallow his scream. Aiden worked him through it and then held him in his mouth for a moment longer, as he stripped himself furiously. He shuddered and eased off. “ _ Lamb _ ,” he gasped.

“ _ Yeah, _ ” he gasped. He wanted to help, to move in a way that would be helpful, maybe do something sexy, but his bones were jelly, and also his head was completely empty except for a pleasant buzzing and a deep need to see Aiden come undone. Aiden staggered to his feet and Lambert slid out of the chair just in time to see Aiden’s face as he gasped and spilled, shooting hot ropes of his seed across Lambert’s face. Fortunately Lambert had the presence of mind to shut his eyes because moments later he felt a hot spatter of spend across his eyelid, sticking in his painted eyelashes. 

Aiden sank to his knees next to Lambert and giggled. “When I said I’d paint your face that isn’t what I intended, but fuck if you’re not gorgous like this too.”

Lambert snorted and moved his hand to wipe at his face, but Aiden caught his hand. “Wait. If it’s ok, can I- it’s just, can I lick you clean?” 

Lambert’s bones were still jelly and his brain was barely trickling back in, and the idea of Aiden touching him again was very good. “Yeah.”

Aiden huffed a laugh. “You keep saying that. Shit, did I break you?”

“Fuck off.” Lambert found himself fighting a smile and squinted at Aiden through his un-cummed eye. “But yeah.”

Aiden grinned back at him and helped him to the bed. When he had Lambert laid out as he wanted him Aiden draped himself across Lambert’s front and set to lapping his own cum off his lover’s face. He licked carefully across his cheeks, nuzzling his nose across the newly cleaned skin before moving on. He licked across Lambert’s nose, and pressed a deep kiss to Lambert’s mouth, sharing the taste with him. Lambert hummed happily as Aiden moved on to lap over his eyelid, before pressing a kiss to each. And when Lambert felt tears welling Aiden kissed those away too. 

When Aiden began to purr, a deep and contented sound that soothed an ache Lambert didn’t even know he had, he did what he always did at the most lifechanging moments and said something really fucking stupid. “So is this some weird cat shit or what? You licked me so I’m yours?”

And as always Aiden grinned like a cat that’d gotten the cream, and said, “All mine, no backsies.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi and cry about these idiots on [tumblr!](http://fairytrashmother.tumblr.com)


End file.
